Desert Rose
by Vampire Ifurita
Summary: It was always the same dream. I would be walking through the barren desert, and there would be nothing around but the sun beating down upon me. I would always see her, and somehow I knew that she was real.


It was always the same dream. I would be walking through the scorching desert in the middle of the day. The hot sun would be burning my skin as I wandered the dunes. There was no particular desert, and I never knew where I was going. All I knew was that I would be walking and that the sun would never move in the sky.

In this place of perpetual day, in this harsh climate I would wander. The sand would burn my bare feet and my skin would be dry. There was no water, there was no shade and there would be no respite from the heat of the sun. The only thing was to walk.

As the time passed, and yet did not, I would think that the desert was a very lonely place. There was no life, there were no people, and there was no sound. The only thing that was in the desert was the sand and the sun. Neither of these things were very conducive to living creatures, and yet I knew on some deep level of myself that there was someone out there. Somewhere out in that harsh clime was a person, alone and alive in only the physical sense. And the second I would think that thought I would see her.

She would be there, atop of a dune of sand, sometimes standing, sometimes sitting, but always there. Her short red hair would be blowing in the breeze that only she seemed to feel, and I would never be able to see her face. Her skin was as pale as the moon, even though the sun never set there. She wore loose black cotton clothes: a tank-top and a pair of pants. She would always be looking away from me, but I knew that she was lonely and that she was sad. I wanted so badly to reach out to her, to comfort her and to love her as I was sure she had never been before. But when I tried to reach out for her, when I tried to get any closer than I already was, which was still quite far away, I would wake up.

I had that dream for three years straight.

My friends think that I'm crazy, that maybe there's a short circuit in my brain, but I'm starting to think that maybe she's real. Maybe I'm dreaming about that beautiful desert rose for a reason. I know that it's a dream, and that I will probably never reach her, but I keep hoping that maybe I will find her some day, maybe I will be able to make her world a little less lonely.

"I can't believe you think that she might be real," my black haired friend told me. Sighing, I went back to packing up my DVDs.

"You can think what you want Sasuke, I think that there has to be a reason I keep dreaming of her," I reply, trying to fit all of my anime series into a tiny cardboard box.

"Everyone has reoccurring dreams Naruto," Sasuke told me. "You're the only nutcase who thinks that their dreams are reality."

Pursing my lips, I ignored his insults. Just because he thinks I'm insane doesn't mean that I am. I'm sure there's a reason I've been dreaming about her for the last three years.

"Naruto…" Sasuke started to say before trailing off, seeming to think better about his next thought.

"I know you and Sakura think I've lost my marbles, but I'm telling you that she's real," I said. I don't really see what's so hard to believe about it all.

"Alright Naruto," Sasuke said, seemingly defeated.

I stared at him for a moment; my best friend surely thought I had finally gone off the deep end. Surely I hadn't, right? I mean, what would he know about insanity? Just because he has a few issues and is required via court order to see a psychologist and a psychiatrist at least once a week doesn't mean that he knows who's crazy or not. Right?

"I gotta go Naruto, got to go see the shrink," Sasuke finally said, getting up from where he had been lounging on my couch. Making his way through the clutter of my half-packed apartment he finally got to the door. "Don't kill yourself trying to pack this all yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, you get outta here before you're late again," I said back, finally taping my bulging box.

"It's not like it matters anyway, he's never there on time," Sasuke muttered as he finally left my apartment. I couldn't help but chuckle, Kakashi-san may be one of the best psychologists there are, but he had a few issues of his own, like his tendency to be horribly tardy.

Yawning, I decided to take a break from packing and sit down for a while, maybe watch some TV. Grabbing the remote from the cluttered coffee table I found a spot to sit and turned on the telly. Four hours later the sun had long ago set and it was time for me to get some sleep. Stretching from my position on the couch, hoping to work some of the kinks out of my neck and shoulders, I stood and started to make my way to my small bedroom, which was just a mattress in the northern corner of my little studio apartment. Collapsing on the mattress I prepared myself to once again walk through the barren desert of my dreams, but the heat and the sun never came.

I didn't dream.

When I awoke it was still dark. The clock above my TV said it was three in the morning. Groaning I tried to turn onto my side and fall back asleep, but found that I couldn't. There was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me that there was someone at the door, even though there had been no knocking. Grumbling, and telling myself that I was only checking because I had nothing else to do and it would ease my mind and help me go back to sleep, I rolled out of my comfy mattress and stood on the cold wooden floor. Dragging my feet to the door, I unchained the door and unlocked the knob. Opening the door I was prepared to just slap myself mentally for being stupid enough to think that there was someone at the door, but then I looked down.

There she was the red headed beauty, the desert rose from my dreams.

Lying in a crumpled mess, her hair splayed over her face, her arms bent at weird angles, and her legs bent at the knees, but it was her nonetheless. I could only stare for a moment in astonishment. Before I knew what I was doing I had bent down and picked up her thin body. I brought her into my home and weaved my way through the debris on my floor to my bed. I laid her gently onto the cool white fabric and finally got to see her face. She was beautiful. Her skin was perfect, not a single imperfection, and the tattoo on her forehead seemed to fit her, even though I knew nothing about her. I couldn't stop myself from touching her skin and feeling just how soft she was. It was like I was drawn to her. I couldn't look away.

I had known she was real.

* * *

**If: this is a bit of an experiment. I figured I'd submit it and see if there would be any interest in it before continuing. So let me know if there's anyone interested in this concept!**


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